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“Oh.” I sit back against the pillows feeling a little foolish. “Sorry. I’m just a little bedazzled by finding you here and by my actions last night. And nice tattoo by the way. Were you ever gonna tell me?”
He grins, not even bothering to shrug his shirt back on. Oh no, he walks around the bed barefoot in those sexy jeans hanging off his hips and heads for the door. Turning just in the doorway he gives me a sexy, lopsided look. “You like it?”
“What’s it doing there?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m sure it is. You know, Blake told me about it a few days ago. I thought she was joking.”
“Well, now you’ve seen it.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal and doesn’t even bother to elaborate. Because having your ex’s name tattooed on your body after you supposedly got divorced is totally normal. I open my mouth to retort but he disappears before I can say anything. Noodle hops off the bed and follows him with her little trot and I hear the doggie flap a few moments later as she lets herself outside.
Well, now you’ve seen it? Is he actually for real?
There are so many questions in my head right now. And I know I got teary at some point and started confessing what had happened with Kirk. What was I thinking?
My God, did I beg Brooklyn to stay at one point? I remember calling him Brookie more than once, in fact, several times.
I push back the comforter and prize my way out of bed, dragging myself to my ensuite. I strain my ears as I go and hear Brook moving around the kitchen, humming to himself.
Humming!
And here I am, dragging myself around after a hard night on the town.
I’m embarrassed to say the least. While I did cut a little loose, and it felt good at the time, I’m definitely paying for it now.
It’s not usual for me to get drunk, but when I do, I get a little silly.
I walk into the bathroom and lean my hands on the basin to take a breath, my eyes flick up and I cringe when I look in the mirror. Since I didn’t get to take my makeup off last night, and my hair is a complete mess, I can’t say I look ravishing.
I turn on the shower, stripping and throwing my outfit from last night on the floor. I sigh as I step in after a moment and let the hot water wash away all the traces of the shit week I’ve had, as well as my wild night.
Note to self: Do not go out on the town with your friends and get shit-faced!
I’m a mother, for goodness sake. What if someone — like a client — saw me behaving badly? Then again, I was only trying to dance with my so-called ex-husband and laughing loudly with my friends.
The water sure does feel good, though. I sigh as it cascades down my body, instantly making me feel replenished. I quickly wash my hair and make sure I get last night's traces of makeup off my face with my cleansing lotion.
Stepping out, I wrap myself in a towel and grab another one for my hair. Realizing I didn’t grab anything to change into, I curse and pull the door back to grab some sweats and new underwear.
Just as I do, Brook is coming in with the coffee.
I halt in my tracks as he acts like this is the most normal thing in the world to be doing.
“Don’t worry, it ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before, precious,” he snickers as he places my coffee on the side table.
“Very funny, Brook.” I feel my cheeks heat at his words.
“Feel better?”
“The power of a hot shower is underrated.”
He chuckles. “Well, hold your horses, I'm making breakfast. There’s nothing like a greasy plate of food to help with a hangover.”
I’m bewildered by the sentiment and how thoughtful he is taking care of me. He’s definitely not rubbing my face in it, or even being too jokey. “Thanks for the coffee,” I say, as he slips out again.
I quickly push the door closed with my foot when he’s gone and grab some sweats out of my closet.
I don’t even know why I reach for my lacy Victoria’s Secret underwear, but something about wearing a nice matching set makes me feel a little more sexy and less like a dead mommy. I figure I might as well try to feel better about myself.
